


The Dopest Part of Coming Home

by peepo



Series: Purest Heiffel AU [1]
Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-06
Updated: 2017-12-06
Packaged: 2019-02-11 08:38:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12931614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peepo/pseuds/peepo
Summary: Is I Get To Take Off My Pants and Watch Cartoons With You





	The Dopest Part of Coming Home

Carefully balancing his laptop case, briefcase, and grocery bags, Dmitri shakes the raindrops off his umbrella, before sliding it closed with a ‘click.’

The door is unlocked already when he goes to open it, so he steps in, hanging the umbrella on it’s designated hook on the wall. The roar of the rain is muffled as the door shuts behind him.

“Hope you’re my boyfriend, and not the axe murderer of Villisca or something.” He hears Eiffel call from the kitchen.

“Hope you are my boyfriend, and not silly idiot. Oh, wait. Is same thing.” He calls back as he takes off his wet coat, hanging it on a hook to dry. He slips off his shoes, and steps around the corner into the living room.

Eiffel comes out of the kitchen, holding a plate, with three chimichangas, in one hand, and a mug in the other. Eiffel’s mouth is full when he leans in to kiss Dmitri, who leans back and out of the way. “Absolutely not. Swallow your food, ass.”

Eiffel makes a real show of swallowing his food, over-exaggeratedly gulping, before leaning back in for the kiss, which Dmitri supplies happily. Eiffel flops onto the couch, shoving another bite of chimichanga into his mouth. Dmitri places his briefcase on the floor, and laptop case on the coffee table, before going into the kitchen to put away the few groceries.

“So,” he calls from the kitchen, loud enough for Eiffel to hear him, “How was work?”

“Eh, it was alright I guess. I seriously fucked up an ad-read, but like, what did they expect from an astoundingly dyslexic guy? It was live, too, so broadcast didn’t even have time to censor it. Oh well.” Dmitri hears him shove in another bite of chimichanga.

“Am sorry to hear that. Though, I look forward to listening to the recording.” He finishes putting away almost all the groceries—just one bag to go. He reaches to open the bag, and upon seeing the object which he had entirely forgot about inside, stills for just a moment. Should he give it to Eiffel now? Or, is this an inappropriate time? He’s still new to this whole thing, and isn’t sure how to judge when it is a good time, or a bad time.

He decides, screw it, he’ll give it to him now. He picks up the object and slides it into his pocket, before turning the corner and walking in to the living room.

Eiffel is lounging into the couch, eating his last chimichanga with one hand, with the other, scrolling through the guide on the tv with the remote.

Dmitri stands beside the couch, hands in his pockets.

“Ah, Eiffel,” he clears his throat, obviously nervous.

Eiffel picks up on his nervousness, and puts down the remote, turning to face him. “What’s wrong babe?”

“Nothing is wrong. I- I got you a present, is all.” He casts his eyes downward, unable to look at Eiffel’s face as he pulls out the object.

“Oh sick a pre- Oh.”

“If you do not want it, I can return it I have rec-“

“No, no! I- I just can’t believe- You’ve never gotten me something like this before, without me asking for it.” And then, like flipping a switch, Eiffel suddenly feels really, really small.

His voice is soft and quiet, when he mutters out, “Th-Thank you.”

Dmitri finally looks up at him, and he’s looking down, a light blush spread across his cheeks. He can tell that Eiffel’s demeanor has shifted, his shoulders no longer slouched and relaxed, but sort of, shrunk in on themselves. His legs, no longer manspreading, he’s chosen to curl them up on the couch. Eiffel looks rather shy, something he almost never is in his daily life.

Dmitri reaches to hand the object to Eiffel, who takes it in careful hands, holding it delicately. He looks at it for a moment, before reaching to hand it back to Dmitri.

Dmitri’s heart sinks. “Did you change your mind?”

Eiffel shakes his head no. “I can’t open it.”

Dmitri chuckles, as he takes the object back from him. “You did not even try,” he says, as he unlatches the small plastic locks.

He takes the actual gift out of the plastic container, and reaches up to, once again, hand it to Eiffel. Eiffel eyes it in his hand with a small smile, and rather than taking it from him, simply opens his mouth instead.

Flustered, Dmitri puts the object in Eiffels mouth, and Eiffel closes his mouth around the soft rubber nub of it.

Eiffel, looking up at Dmitri with his beautiful, big green eyes, with a pacifier in his mouth, is the cutest thing Dmitri has ever seen. The pacifier has blue and green stars on it, they supposedly glow in the dark.

He can see the pacifier bobbing just slightly, as Eiffel sucks on it. Dmitri has been staring for too long, he realizes as Eiffel shrinks in on myself even more.

“You are the cutest person in the whole world.” Dmitri says, unable to tear his eyes away from his boyfriend’s adorable face.

Dmitri can see the sides of Eiffel’s lips turn up from behind the pacifier as he smiles. He moves to sit on the couch beside Eiffel, and pulls him into his lap.

Eiffel bends his legs up to his chest, and leans his head on Dmitri’s shoulder. He can hear the slight sucking sound of the pacifier in Eiffel’s mouth, and the sheer adorableness of his sweet boyfriend makes Dmitri die inside.

Looking down at Eiffel’s face, Dmitri coos, “You are so perfect, so cute.” He wrap his arms around Eiffel and squeezes him in a tight hug.

Eiffel lets out a happy sigh, closing his eyes. He nuzzles his cheek against Dmitri’s shoulder, loving the feeling of being so close to him.

They sit for a few minutes, listening to the rain storm outside, and the very quiet white-noise of the tv.

Dmitri looks down at Eiffel to make sure he isn’t asleep, when he asks, “Would you like to watch something?”

Eiffel nods his head yes.

“Okay,” Dmitri says, picking up the remote. “Television show, or movie?”

Eiffel thinks for a long moment, before muttering around the pacifier, “Show.”

Dmitri scrolls to the kids section on their tv guide. “What show?” He asks, going to the search bar.

“Sarah and Duck,” Eiffel says, the pacifier making his speech sound a bit silly.

Dmitri kisses the top of his head, overwhelmed with cute. “Of course, my malysh.”

He turns on the tv show, the quirky, simple theme song playing. It’s a British cartoon in a cute, sketch-style 2D. From what Dmitri’s gathered so far, it’s about a young girl and her pet duck, as they go about their daily lives, in a strange alternate reality where the moon is a kind painter, and umbrellas fear rain. It’s an awfully cute show, but absolutely not something Dmitri would watch on his own regard.

Eiffel giggles at the funny parts, and Dmitri almost cries from how cute he is. If actually being killed from cute could happen, Dmitri would be violently dead by now.

They watch a few episodes of the show, Eiffel giggling occasionally. Dmitri stopped paying attention to the show long ago, directing all of his attention to cuddling and watching Eiffel.

After the fourth episode watched, Dmitri says, “Okay, Malysh, that is enough tv for today.” He picks up the remote and shuts off the tv despite Eiffel’s whining.

“Noooo! Dadddyy!” Eiffel whines around the pacifier. “Daddy one more!”

“No, Eiffel, it has been an hour already. Too much television, not good for little boy’s brain.” He gently taps Eiffel’s forehead.

Eiffel pouts a little, leaning into Dmitri’s chest and crossing his arms. Despite the angry pouting, however, Dmitri can still hear the slight sucking of the pacifier in his mouth.

“Why don’t we go,” Dmitri hesitates, still embarrassed about speaking this way, but he loves Eiffel, and wants to support this aspect of his personality, “Why don’t we go and play? Or read a book?”

At the sound of playing, Eiffel immediately perks up. “Ya! Play!” He says, bouncing off of Dmitri’s lap to stand on the carpet. “C’mon dada, up!”

“Okay, okay,” Dmitri smiles at Eiffel’s enthusiasm. “We can go play.”

Eiffel bolts down the hall to their bedroom before Dmitri can even finish standing.

When he comes in, Eiffel is bent over on his knees, rummaging in the closet. Dmitri can hear him babbling to himself, choosing what to play with.

They don’t have a very large selection of toys, unfortunately. All the ones they do keep, that are very obviously toys that would seem weird for two men in their 30s to have, they keep in totes in the closet.

Eiffel chooses the legos to play with. They have a whole tote just for legos. He tries dragging it out, and while he’s big something like that is no problem, but when he’s in littlespace, he convinces himself he can’t do it, and therefore is unable to.

Dmitri sees him struggling to pull the box out, so he walks over to the closet, crouching beside him and patting his back.

“Let daddy help,” he says. He’s still nervous about referring to himself as, well, as “daddy,” but it’s what Eiffel prefers to call him when he’s in this mindset. Eiffel moves out of the way, and he grabs the box, dragging it out of the closet. He snaps open the top, and Eiffel digs into it immediately.

He’s giggling wildly, enjoying all the bright colors and the sounds of the legos moving around together.

Smiling, Dmitri watches him start picking out pieces of various sizes, shapes, and colors, laying them in unorganized piles on the floor.

“What are you planning on building, malysh?”

Around his pacifier, Eiffel excitedly starts babbling, “‘M gonna build, um, a racetrack!”

“That sounds gre-“

“No! A city!!”

“Oh! Like Seatt-“

“Nononono,” his eyes light up as he says, “‘M gonna build a space station.”

He starts enthusiastically digging out pieces, and piling them together.

“That sounds good to me. Is there any way I can help, little one?”

“Dada, you build the main thingy, and I’ll build the stuff that comes off of it.”

Dmitri isn’t sure what “main thingy” is referring to, so he starts building a box. “Like this?”

Eiffel shakes his head and giggles, “No! Like this,” he lines up pieces in a long straight line.

“Okay, sorry for making mistake. Your instructions were very clear, daddy is just dumb.” Dmitri starts building pieces into a long straight line, out of blue blocks, adding dimension to it so it’s rounded sort of.

“Dada is dumb.” Eiffel says, grinning around his pacifier, “Dumb and stinky!”

“You have got that right.”

  
They build for about half an hour, and their finished piece looks actually quite impressive.

“Very good job, Eiffel. Looks just like a real space station.”

Eiffel giggles, launching himself into Dmitri’s lap. He hugs his arms around his neck, and Dmitri protectively places a hand on his lower back.

“Thank you for playing with me daddy.” Eiffel mutters.

“Of course, little one.” He says, rubbing Eiffel’s back. He checks his watch.

“Malysh, it is seven. Do you know what that means?”

Eiffel gasps, jumping up in Dmitri’s lap. “Dinner?!”

“Yes, good job, dinner. What would you like to eat?”

“Ice cream!” Eiffel giggles.

Dmitri shakes his head, tsking. “No, little one, ice cream is not adequate dinner. How about you choose between stir-fry, grilled cheese, or nuggets.”

“Grilled cheese!”

“Okay, baby. Up, up.” He gently nudges Eiffel up, patting his butt. Eiffel giggles, and stands up off Dmitri.

They walk into the kitchen, and Eiffel watches as Dmitri butters up the bread and cuts the cheese.

“Am turning on the stove now, will be very hot, please don’t go near it.”

“But daddy, I wanna help!”

Dmitri considers this. “Okay, malysh. You can stir the soup. But only when daddy is watching. And you have to be very careful.”

Eiffel bounces up and down in place, excited to be able to help.

He opens a can of tomato soup and pours it into a pot, turning on the burner. He hands Eiffel a wooden spoon, and Eiffel stirs the soup while Dmitri starts heating up the first grilled cheese sandwich, carefully watching Eiffel the whole time.

After that sandwich is done, he turns around to the other counter to start buttering up and assembling the next sandwich.

Suddenly from behind him, he hears a sharp yelp!

He whips around, and sees Eiffel clutching his fingers, anxiously sucking on his pacifier, obviously trying to hold back tears.

“Eiffel! What happened?” Eiffel doesn’t answer him, focusing too hard on not crying. “Did you burn yourself?” Eiffel nods at that.

“What did I say about being careful?” He turns off the burners, then faces Eiffel. When he gently grabs Eiffel’s hand, Eiffel finally stops trying not to cry. His tears fall town his face, and his shoulders start shaking. Dmitri’s heart breaks when he hears Eiffel making tiny, pained wimpers.

Dmitri checks his fingers. He has a small burn, but nothing too bad.

“You have a teeny tiny burn, but you are okay. You were probably more scared than hurt, weren’t you?”

Eiffel nods his head, still crying. “K-kiss it b-better,” he says, his voice wet and shaky.

Dmitri leans his head down and gently kisses his hand. “All better?”

Eiffel nods.

Dmitri pulls him into a tight hug, and lets Eiffel finish crying into his shoulder. Once he’s sure he’s done, he pulls away. “I will finish cooking dinner, why don’t you go draw at the table?”

His face red and wet, Eiffel wipes his eyes, and smiles a little behind his pacifier.

Ten minutes later, Dmitri walks in to the dining room with their dinner. Eiffel looks up from his drawing, but doesn’t say anything. He looks distant and sad, and Dmitri’s heart clenches at the sight.

Dmitri places down their dishes on the table, before running his fingers through Eiffel’s hair. When Eiffel is in his normal, adult headspace, a small burn is nothing if not a nuisance. But, when he’s in such a little headspace, where his emotions are so much more amplified and intense, any kind of injury, no matter how small, is a very big deal.

Dmitri runs his fingers through Eiffel’s hair, considering what to say next. He’s still new to being a caregiver, and honestly hasn’t done much research. He puts himself in Eiffel’s position, what would he want to hear if he were Eiffel?

“That burn was scary, was it not?”

Eiffel nods his head.

“But you were being so brave, you only cried a little. I am proud of you.”

Eiffel doesn’t say anything, but when Dmitri leans over to see his face, he can clearly see that he’s a bit happier already. Dmitri kisses his temple.

“That is good drawing. Is it. . . A train?”

Eiffel shakes his head. Dmitri genuinely has no idea what it could possibly be.

“Ah, of course. Not a train. It is some kind of, phytoplankton?”

Eiffel giggles, shaking his head. Dmitri hadn’t meant that to be funny, but he’s glad he could make Eiffel laugh.

“It’s Saturn!” It looks nothing like Saturn.

“Ah, of course, malysh. I see it now! Very good drawing. But, it is time to put it away and eat.” He picks up Eiffel’s drawing, and the crayons, and puts them away on the shelf they belong on.

Dmitri walks back over to the table and sits next to Eiffel.

“You need to take out pacifier.”

Eiffel shakes his head.

“You cannot eat with it in your mouth.”

Eiffel considerers this, then opens his mouth slightly as if to say a retort. Dmitri takes this opportunity to pull it from his mouth.

“You look very cute with it, and I’m glad you like it, but you need to eat.”

Eiffel pouts a little, but says, “Okay daddy. . .” and starts eating.

Even though Eiffel ate three chimichangas just a couple hours ago, as always he eats like he’s starving, as if this is the first food he’s seen in days.

By the time Dmitri catches up to Eiffel and finishes his dinner, Eiffel is squirming in his seat, antsy and ready to get up and play.

“Thank you for being so patient, Eiffel. You may go play while I do dishes.”

Eiffel squeals, hopping up from his seat and running to their bedroom.

Dmitri comes in a few minutes later, and finds Eiffel laying on his stomach, playing with a few stuffed animals.

“Sorry to interrupt your. . .”

“Court case!”

“Sorry to interrupt your course case, Malysh, but it is bath time.”

Eiffel bids his stuffed animals goodbye as he stands up and follows Dmitri into the bathroom. The tub is already running, full to the top with colorful bubbles.

Eiffel starts getting giddy, bouncing in place and babbling about bubbles. Eventually Dmitri gets him to calm down enough to still his bouncing.

“Arms up,” he says, and Eiffel puts his arms up, allowing Dmitri to take off his shirt.

Dmitri bends down and pulls down Eiffel’s pants and underwear, throwing them and the shirt into the hamper.

Eiffel carefully steps into the bath, sinking into the warm bubbly water.

From a hidden spot underneath their sink, Dmitri pulls out Eiffel’s box of bath toys.

He plops them into the water, each one landing in the cushion of bubbles and sinking down.

Eiffel picks up one, a rubber whale, and starts playing with it, squirting water out of the blowhole of the whale.

Dmitri watches him play for a few minutes, before turning off the water. He picks up the cup they keep for bath time. “Okay, Malysh, close your eyes.”

Eiffel closes his eyes and leans his head back. Dmitri scoops up a cupful of water and dumps it over Eiffel’s head.

“Good boy.” He says.

Eiffel opens his eyes, and continues playing with his toys, choosing to play with a small plastic sailboat now.

Dmitri lathers his hands with shampoo, and starts scrubbing Eiffel’s hair, massaging his scalp. Once Eiffel’s hair is full of shampoo, he spikes it into a mohawk.

Getting to work on washing Eiffel’s body now, Dmitri rubs a soapy washcloth over every inch of him. Eiffel ignores him, mostly, much too preoccupied with his boat race.

“Okay, eyes closed again.”

Eiffel closes his eyes again, and Dmitri dumps a couple cups of water over his head, letting his mohawk fall and rinsing all the soap off him.

Now completely clean, Dmitri lets Eiffel play in the bath for a few more minutes. He leaves for a moment, to pick up Eiffel’s toys and pick out pajamas for him.

He comes back a few minutes later, “Are you ready to get out?” Dmitri asks.

“Yeah,” Eiffel says, carefully standing up in the bath.

Dmitri wraps him up in a big soft towel, cocooning him in it. He unplugs the drain, before gently guiding Eiffel to their bedroom.

He ruffles Eiffel’s hair under the towel, then moves the towel down his body to dry the rest of him off. As he does, Eiffel looks at him with big, innocent eyes. Dmitri shifts his eyes, unable to look into them any longer.

Turning around, Dmitri drops the towel into the hamper, then steps over to the dresser. He picks up Eiffel’s clothes, before going back over to him.

Knees aching, Dmitri crouches, and holds open Eiffel’s cute pizza boxerbriefs. “Right leg,” Dmitri says. Eiffel lifts his leg, sliding his foot into the leghole. “That is left leg but okay. Other leg.” Eiffel giggles, putting his other leg in, before Dmitri pulls them up.

Dmitri holds open his pajamas, a soft onesie with cute cartoon donuts printed all over it. One leg at a time, Eiffel steps into the onesie, holding a hand to Dmitri’s head as leverage so he doesn’t fall over.

Dmitri holds the sleeves up for Eiffel to slide his arms into. Grabbing the zipper, he zips it all the way up, then presses a kiss to Eiffel’s nose.

Eiffel tilts his head and smiles, eyes warm with lovesickness. He holds his arms open and makes “grabby hands.” Dmitri pulls him into a hug, pressing his nose into the crook of Eiffel’s neck, squeezing him tight.

“Love you,” Eiffel mutters, muffled by Dmitri’s shirt.

“I love you too, very much, Eiffel.” Dmitri sighs at the end, almost dreamily. “Let’s get to bed.”

Eiffel pulls away, and hops into bed, gathering his stuffed animals while Dmitri changes into his pajamas.

Before returning, Dmitri plugs in the nightlight Eiffel likes to sleep with whilst in this headspace. It casts an image of space onto the ceiling, and when Dmitri turns off the light, the room is basked in a faint blue glow.

He crawls into bed beside Eiffel. He holds Eiffel’s pacifier in front of his face, and Eiffel leans forward and takes it into his mouth, sucking on it contently.

Dmitri pulls him against him, and Eiffel snuggles his face into his chest, closing his eyes.

In the dim, blue light, Dmitri can just barely see his face, pressed up against him. He always looks so relaxed in this headspace, a happiness which he never seems to have when he’s living his normal, daily life.

Tomorrow Eiffel will go to work. He’ll drink diet coke, and make dirty jokes with his alcoholic coworkers, broadcast to an audience of thousands. He’ll drive to pick up lunch, and probably angrily curse at the driver in front of him going 20 in a 45, flicking them off as he does so.

He’ll be an adult, as he does every day. He’ll live an adult life, and have adult responsibilities and adult friends. But all the while, a scared, confused child will live somewhere deep inside him. And it hurts Dmitri, to be lucky enough to have the privilege to occasionally see this smaller, innocent version of the man he loves. It hurts him, because he knows society will never accept this part of Eiffel, he’ll have to lock away and suppress that child, to hide it for the rest of his life.

Dmitri pulls him closer, and closes his own eyes.

Tomorrow Eiffel will go to work. For now, Dmitri will protect and love this side of him for a long as he can.

 


End file.
